any attack.’
Ceridwen nodded. ‘All know what lies within.’
A cold smile crept across Dian Cecht’s lips and once again Sophie was afraid. ‘The Court of the Final Word stands alongside Fragile Creatures,’ he said to her, but his words were hesitant. ‘Go in peace and go with speed. The Far Lands are no longer safe, for any of us.’
‘Where are we going?’ Sophie asked Ceridwen.
‘To one of the last bastions of the last hope for all Existence, Sister of Dragons,’ Ceridwen replied. ‘A place where we can make a final stand, if needs be, or to plot with our allies a way to save everything.’
There were so many questions Sophie wanted to ask, but she could sense that it was not the time. Instead she focused on being patient until she could successfully find a way back to her own world and Mallory.
As they approached the gigantic doors, they swung open soundlessly to reveal a vista over a glorious countryside of rolling green, forests and streams, a landscape of romance and mystery that made Sophie’s spine tingle. It appeared to be late September, still warm, the leaves turning gold and red and brown. In the hollows, mist was rolling.
Tethered just outside were two chestnut mares with bridles of onyx and ivory. Ceridwen motioned to Sophie to mount one and then climbed on to the other mare easily.
‘Go well, Daughter of the Green,’ Dian Cecht said to Ceridwen. The warmth in his voice made Sophie reappraise him. He was too complex to judge, too unpredictable.
Ceridwen smiled sadly and then spurred her mount down the path that led from the court across the countryside. Sophie followed, glad to leave the Court of the Final Word behind.
The path wound like a golden ribbon over the green, but after a short distance Ceridwen eased her horse off into the long grass. ‘We shall avoid the main byways,’ she said, ‘and make our way through the quiet, secret places, the silent forests, the mist-filled valleys, the whispering heart of the land.’ She flashed a comforting glance at Sophie. ‘Those places belong to me.’
The wind traced liquid patterns in the grass as the two horses eased down the slope towards a stream that Sophie could see glinting in the light. At that moment the sun came out from behind a cloud, transforming the entire landscape into a transcendent, hazy temple. The hairs on Sophie’s arms prickled as the quality of light and the subtleties of scent and temperature worked their spell on her.
‘I’ve dreamed of this place,’ Sophie said to herself, surprised at the force of the realisation. ‘When I was a girl, this was always where I wanted to be.’
‘The Far Lands stay in all our hearts,’ Ceridwen said. ‘It is the place from which we all spring and to which we all return, eternally.’
Sophie understood in that moment how she had been shaped asa woman by the thoughts that had come to her during her childhood, the yearning for a place where nature truly lived, where mystery was a part of daily life and where there was a profound sense of meaning underpinning everything. Without truly knowing, she had been on a quest from her earliest days; and it was this land that had called to her. The swell of emotion was so shocking that she couldn’t prevent a fugitive tear.
‘This place is your home?’ Sophie asked.
‘It is our home now. The Golden Ones are a race ruled by infinite sadness. Our true homelands are lost to us; we may never return. But the Far Lands and the Fixed Lands make adequate replacements.’
‘So much has changed since the Fall,’ Sophie mused. Images of the dark days following the gods’ return rushed through her mind: the burning cities, the failure of technology, the riots, the economic collapse, the desperation of people unable to accept the new rules reality had thrust upon them. In the end, only a few had the ability to adapt and survive, those defined by a particular worldview, perhaps; Sophie wondered if the ones who were truly at peace since
Ceridwen nodded. ‘All know what lies within.’
A cold smile crept across Dian Cecht’s lips and once again Sophie was afraid. ‘The Court of the Final Word stands alongside Fragile Creatures,’ he said to her, but his words were hesitant. ‘Go in peace and go with speed. The Far Lands are no longer safe, for any of us.’
‘Where are we going?’ Sophie asked Ceridwen.
‘To one of the last bastions of the last hope for all Existence, Sister of Dragons,’ Ceridwen replied. ‘A place where we can make a final stand, if needs be, or to plot with our allies a way to save everything.’
There were so many questions Sophie wanted to ask, but she could sense that it was not the time. Instead she focused on being patient until she could successfully find a way back to her own world and Mallory.
As they approached the gigantic doors, they swung open soundlessly to reveal a vista over a glorious countryside of rolling green, forests and streams, a landscape of romance and mystery that made Sophie’s spine tingle. It appeared to be late September, still warm, the leaves turning gold and red and brown. In the hollows, mist was rolling.
Tethered just outside were two chestnut mares with bridles of onyx and ivory. Ceridwen motioned to Sophie to mount one and then climbed on to the other mare easily.
‘Go well, Daughter of the Green,’ Dian Cecht said to Ceridwen. The warmth in his voice made Sophie reappraise him. He was too complex to judge, too unpredictable.
Ceridwen smiled sadly and then spurred her mount down the path that led from the court across the countryside. Sophie followed, glad to leave the Court of the Final Word behind.
The path wound like a golden ribbon over the green, but after a short distance Ceridwen eased her horse off into the long grass. ‘We shall avoid the main byways,’ she said, ‘and make our way through the quiet, secret places, the silent forests, the mist-filled valleys, the whispering heart of the land.’ She flashed a comforting glance at Sophie. ‘Those places belong to me.’
The wind traced liquid patterns in the grass as the two horses eased down the slope towards a stream that Sophie could see glinting in the light. At that moment the sun came out from behind a cloud, transforming the entire landscape into a transcendent, hazy temple. The hairs on Sophie’s arms prickled as the quality of light and the subtleties of scent and temperature worked their spell on her.
‘I’ve dreamed of this place,’ Sophie said to herself, surprised at the force of the realisation. ‘When I was a girl, this was always where I wanted to be.’
‘The Far Lands stay in all our hearts,’ Ceridwen said. ‘It is the place from which we all spring and to which we all return, eternally.’
Sophie understood in that moment how she had been shaped asa woman by the thoughts that had come to her during her childhood, the yearning for a place where nature truly lived, where mystery was a part of daily life and where there was a profound sense of meaning underpinning everything. Without truly knowing, she had been on a quest from her earliest days; and it was this land that had called to her. The swell of emotion was so shocking that she couldn’t prevent a fugitive tear.
‘This place is your home?’ Sophie asked.
‘It is our home now. The Golden Ones are a race ruled by infinite sadness. Our true homelands are lost to us; we may never return. But the Far Lands and the Fixed Lands make adequate replacements.’
‘So much has changed since the Fall,’ Sophie mused. Images of the dark days following the gods’ return rushed through her mind: the burning cities, the failure of technology, the riots, the economic collapse, the desperation of people unable to accept the new rules reality had thrust upon them. In the end, only a few had the ability to adapt and survive, those defined by a particular worldview, perhaps; Sophie wondered if the ones who were truly at peace since
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